


A Shiny Piece of Metal

by Tessanator



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Addiction, Angst, Anxiety, Crying, Cutting, Depression, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Memories, Past Drug Use, Recreational Drug Use, Self Harm, Smoking, Snorting, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 03:03:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7996195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tessanator/pseuds/Tessanator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you have a shitty day and sometimes you have a shitty decade.<br/>This is how it ended.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Shiny Piece of Metal

She clung to her right arm as the blood dripped lightly onto the gravel below her. She hissed through her teeth as she shot the drug into her veins, the icy cold of the liquid shot into her body and clung to her lungs, making breathing more difficult as she collapsed back against the concrete wall, but she didn’t care. She swore nothing has ever felt better than the light of her life slowly dimming behind her eyelids. She sucked in a damp breath and rolled her head to the side, trying to remember where she was and how she had gotten there, but thinking was becoming harder as the seconds slipped by.

She tried to think about how she had gotten to this very damaging point in her life and realized she could barely even remember how this started. Bits and pieces of memories flashed behind her eyelids as her pupils were not able to keep focus. She knows she used to be sad; a cloud of black rain would hang over her as she walked to and from classes, drowning her in her own judgments and self-inflicting criticism. Friends became enemies, family became responsibilities and instead of becoming stronger, she broke. Soon the sparkle of smooth metal caught her eye on a particularly bad day. She picked it up and touched it to her skin. That’s when she began to paint.

Cutting didn’t last though. Soon others saw, and others judged making the dark red paint spills to not be as comforting as they used to be. It didn’t stop her from finding a way to escape the pain she had acquired after all these years. She tried years of therapy and swallowed the pills that they would shoved down her throat, but they did nothing to stop the ache in her chest and sooner than later she gave up on them too. While selling her pills to one of her many classmates to help pay off the amount of therapy her insurance couldn’t; she found a savoir in the sparkle of a smooth piece of metal. She picked it up and touched it to her lips. That’s when she began to breathe. 

You could find resin from all types of smokable drugs at the bottom of her stained black lungs. Tobacco, weed, spice, molly, and meth she refused to discriminate. She could fly without leaving the ground, she could sing without belting a word, why would anyone want to keep this happiness from her? Eyes blood shot and unfocused she’d giggle one of her first in many years. She wishes she could remember why she had laughed. 

Days became shorter, nights longer, and lies became more complex. Her skin smelled sour, her teeth stained yellow, and her eyes grew large purple rings under the bags that hung there. She would cry and scream herself horse before bed; just to be quiet and expressionless the next morning. Achieving the high that took away her pain took longer and became more expensive as each blurry day passed. Every time her mother could smell her magical anti-depressant she’d give her daughter the most disapproving glare, not being able to stare her in the eye she felt as though her mother was forcing her to hide behind a garage for another hit. 

She couldn’t keep getting caught, but she couldn’t lose this blimp of false happiness she created for herself either. On a particularly bad day, while praying to God to take her life away, the sun sparkled down onto a thin long piece of metal. She picked it up and touched it to her vein. That’s when she began to fly.

Every pay check was spent on this liquid happiness. A shot through a vein could keep her from reality for hours if done correctly; if not, well it never stopped her from trying again. She stopped seeing family and friends and started to slump over in cold concrete corners for nights on end, only thinking about if she had another open vein and more liquid happiness. Nothing stopped her from finding it too. Her body became business and soon she had an overabundance of happy juice. Men and women came and went in a hazy blur. Most came to use her and only a handful left her with product that she would use in return. Others came to check her health and well-being, but she couldn’t tell if they were real or if they were just another hallucination from the drugs.

She forgot her responsibilities, her friends, her family, and she started to forget herself. Through half slit eyes she stared down at her all too translucent skin tightly stretched over her all too thin bones and couldn’t recognize who the body belonged to. Maybe a year ago she would have said herself, but now her body became too reliant on man-made ecstasy that it didn’t belong to her anymore. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. She was never meant to find happiness alone. 

Tears streamed down her face and her fingers shook as she started to make her last hit. The heroin had stopped getting her high three days ago and her stash of emergency money was down to pennies and cents. She refused to think about what this meant and repeated a mantra of “don’t stop, you can’t be happy if you stop” in her head while she boiled the liquid in a rusted down spoon.

She thought of her friends and how quickly they seemed to abandon her when she needed them most. She thought of her family and all the times she’s disappointed them with her nasty habit. She thought of her love and how the house had echoed when he grabbed his last box of things from the entry way. She wondered if any of them would miss her, and if they would ever find her fiend destroyed shell of a body. Would they cry? Or would they just be relieved that her addiction will finally stop being a problem? Did it matter?

She came to the conclusion that no it didn’t as she pulled back the plunger and shot the drug home. The effects didn’t take long, her vision swimmed, her body felt heavy, and her signature dopey smile returned to her face. This wasn’t heaven, but she knew it was the stop right before paradise. She used the little strength that she had left to push back the blackout curtains and see out into the world one more time. 

Children screamed and ran around one another accompanied by paranoid mothers and relaxed fathers. Puppies played and chased their furry tails, friends hugged and came close to each other to whisper secrets, and lovers would gently caresses and kiss. Even with her false smile and liquid happiness she knew that reaching their level of joy would never be reachable for her. Her shaky breaths became quicker as she felt the drug force her to relax. The sun was warm against her skin as it streamed through the cracked window. 

A sparkle caught her eye. 

She looked down to see a thick heavy piece of metal.

She picked it up and put it to her temple.

That’s when she began to die.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work that I have published on AO3! Yippeeee! I hope you liked it and please leave Kudos if you'd like me to publish more.


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